


Too Damn Cold

by branewurms



Category: Claymore
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Friendship, Romance, not quite smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-21
Updated: 2008-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/branewurms/pseuds/branewurms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deneve sighed, long-suffering.  "We don't <i>feel</i> cold," she said patiently.  "Or had you forgotten?  Go back to your own bed, there's no room to breathe here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Damn Cold

"C-c-cold!" Helen grumbled through chattering teeth, jerking Deneve out of a light doze. Then Helen was worming her way into Deneve's bedroll and glomming onto her like a leech. "It's too damn cold!"

Deneve sighed, long-suffering. "We don't _feel_ cold," she said patiently. "Or had you forgotten? Go back to your own bed, there's no room to breathe here."

Helen's grip only tightened, one arm wrapped so securely beneath her breasts that Deneve found it difficult to inhale. "Screw that!" she exclaimed, voice muffled into Deneve's shoulder. "_I_ feel it! Just because it doesn't hurt anything doesn't mean I can't get sick of it. All this white. It's like it's seeping through my skin. Soon I'll be bleeding white, you know?"

"No," said Deneve. "I don't know."

"Can't it ever warm up around here even a little?"

"Yes," said Deneve. "And then there are avalanches."

"And there's never enough _food!_" Helen blustered, unhearing. "I'm _hungry!_ This isn't funny!"

"You're being childish. At least we're alive," Deneve said. _And together,_ she did not say. "You eat too much, anyway."

Helen puffed unhappily, her breath warm and ticklish against Deneve's neck. But her tirade had ended, and the silence stretched out so long that Deneve began to wonder if the other woman had fallen asleep. Maybe, just maybe she would get some peace this night after all, she thought.

That was, until a sharp set of teeth began chewing on her ear.

"Hey," said Deneve. "I'm not food."

"So _hungry_," Helen mumbled indistinctly, tongue sneaking behind Deneve's earlobe. Deneve felt her own breath catch, despite her best intentions. The soft press of Helen's breasts shifted against her side as the woman wiggled impossibly closer. "So _cold._"

Deneve sighed again, giving into the inevitable. Turning to face the other woman, she found Helen's mouth with her own, thus saving her poor ear from the threat of cannibalism - but then Helen just started chewing on her bottom lip instead. She felt Helen's lean hands sliding up the curve of her back, bony fingertips feeling out the shape of each vertebra.

At a particularly sharp nip, Deneve pulled back, tasting a trace of blood. "Hey," she protested. "I _said_ I'm not food."

Helen grumbled at the chill air between them and burrowed her face back into the curve of Deneve's neck. "Well, if you can't feed me, you can at least warm me," she said, her tongue flicking out and lapping at Deneve's pulse as if to drink up the warmth it held.

Deneve's breath hitched again, and she felt a sharp _twang_ somewhere deep in her belly. The corner of her mouth quirked with wry amusement. "Fine," she said, letting one hand smooth down over the curves of Helen's body, fingers finding their way between Helen's legs. "But next time you get to do all the work."


End file.
